Simple Minds
Real Life

THE REVIEW

“My life,” I said to this woman wanting to impress her, “is enclosed in this minute and sixteen.”

And I played her the intro of ‘Banging On The Door’.

Which is true, I can't explain (or I don't want to) but when I listen to that piece, which I've loved from the start, as long as I can remember, my whole life flashes before my eyes.

“Real Life”, 1991, is an own goal. “Real life,” does it mean there was only mush before? I don’t get it, Simple Minds. Care to explain?

“Street Fighting Years”, the predecessor, that was real life. Struggles, imprisonments, pain, tears.

This “Real Life” dangerously positions itself at the onset of a decade that will see pop rock stiffen, awaiting revision. Grunge, brit–pop, and experimentation (Nirvana, Oasis, Prodigy) are there, beckoning, ready to nudge those living off their legacy, albeit with dignity.

Anyway, I was happy when, during one of the last tours, they opened the set list with ‘Banging On The Door’, complete with the intro, not live but with the backing track, well, it’s okay.

The girl mentioned at the beginning said to me, “Ah, beautiful. I listen to Mengoni, Eros, Nannini,” or something like that. From the intifada in Ireland to the fringes of suburbia is just a moment. Anyway, she later blocked me; I don't remember why.

At the time of ‘Real Life’’s release, I was fifteen and captivated by the leading single, ‘Let There Be Love’, and bought the album.

Fresher than its predecessor, but more light-hearted. Less of a milestone, if I’m allowed, more of a dispensable episode.

I'm not exactly a fan of Simple Minds, but I appreciate their kindness, consistency, innocence.

The title track, ‘Let There Be Love’, ‘Woman’, ‘Let The Children Speak’, ‘Ghostrider’: they are pleasant episodes. They are rock, pop, played with dignity.

The album, however, loses a little in terms of personality. Kerr's voice (the booming voice) is reassuring, and whoever handled the keyboards instead of Mick MacNeil did a good job, worked hard.

What’s missing is a basic idea, which in ‘Street Fighting Years’ was the struggle, the guerrilla warfare with the related induced.

Here, perhaps in reaction, they position themselves on a more intimate and introspective plane, even musically. But it's as if a cleaver has been used to sever the past, as if reinventing was a tax to be paid to someone, as if after more than a decade the Simple Minds were still on trial, what do they have to offer now?

I’ll be harsh, I’ll be honest: not much. Unsurprisingly, from then on, they moved from stadiums to theaters.

And it's curious that when I need to self-celebrate, when I'm asked to place a song as a biographic manifesto, instinctively I go to the intro of ‘Banging On The Door’.

Anyone among you, it's clear, it's obvious, who is asked to draw from this deck would move on. Randomly quoting: it's to be expected that @IlConte makes love to the notes of ‘Travellin’ Man’, it’s plausible.

But I have never associated sex with music. Maybe once, but not with Simple Minds. Their immaculate genesis, the silent and clean downsizing, would have destabilized me.